


Poolside

by cuntoid



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Cheating, Coercion, Cumshot, Daddy Kink, F/M, Humiliation, Pool Sex, Teasing, affair, blowjob, dom vibes, dubcon, pam has a new neighbor, pure fucking smut, reluctance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuntoid/pseuds/cuntoid
Summary: Jim and Pam have a new neighbor - a single dad with a pool.





	Poolside

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the prompt! Always a pleasure!

Three polite knocks break the afternoon silence in the Halpert home. It’s unseasonably warm and calm for a Saturday evening, considering how sweaty everyone’s been all day, cooped up in the house together. Jim nurses an afternoon coffee and they share a glance, eyebrows raised in tandem, and Pam’s the one who gets up to answer the door. 

In the blazing sun, in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned down the middle of his chest, is the new neighbor. He has an easy grin that tells Pam he’s on his second or third drink of the afternoon, graying hair wet and curled. The smell of chlorine is still on him, and on the two little girls by his side, clinging to his legs and watching Pam with shy smiles. She smiles down at them and at the man, a bottle with a bow in his hands. 

“Hey! Woman of the house?” His smile stretches wider and he offers the bottle to Pam along with a tray, saran-wrapped stacks of brownies. “I know people don’t do this much these days, but we’re your new neighbors! Been trying to get to know the neighborhood a little, some old-fashioned door-to-door. We just got done in the pool – it’s a scorcher today.”

“Oh! That’s so thoughtful!” Pam takes the tray and waves them in, taking the gifts to the kitchen while she calls for Jim. Once he’s joined the little party in front of the door, she makes the introductions and watches Jim shake hands with their neighbor. 

“Nice to meet you, man, my name’s Jim. Halpert. We’re the Halperts,” he stammers, laughing at his own clumsiness. 

The new guy laughs with him, voice deeper and booming in the little home. The little girls at his legs seem unmoved, used to their father’s loudness. Pam watches them with a melting heart, immediately excited to have neighbors with a pool and children for them to maybe play with. He’s taller than Jim, more solid. Hairier. It lines his chest and arms, dark and thick, everywhere but his stubbly face. 

“Shit! I’m an awful neighbor already,” he jokes, making a face at his own blurted swear. The girls titter and he pats their heads. “Name’s Seth. Seth Kyle.”

“First names are so nice, they had to give ‘em to you twice,” Jim cracks, smiling into his coffee. 

Seth throws his head back and claps Jim on the shoulder, big hand slapping him hard enough to pull a wince from Jim’s strained expression. It only makes Seth laugh harder, squeezing him, apologizing through his laughter. Already, he seems charming. Good natured. Pam sizes him up while the uproar dissipates, taking in just how large he is compared to her husband. Where Jim’s already very tall, this guy is inches above, filled out in the way a man might be if he spent his younger years playing sports. He has the thick, softened muscles of an ex-athlete, filled out. Solid.

“Well, anyway, we have a pool and some daughters that I think might get along, and I work from home. So, if you guys ever feel like crashing out place and having a playdate – and, as a single parent with lots of time and two kids dying for some playdates, I do mean _any time_ – please. _Please_ feel free.”

“I’d love to take you up on that, man,” Jim agrees. Pam nods along with him, feeling the shared thrill of parents finding amiable company, in the prospect of having a fellow parent around that isn’t insufferable. “For sure.”

“Well, you know where to find me,” Seth jokes. He gives them a lazy salute and has his girls in tow, waving shyly behind him as they follow him home.

As the moment dies down and the Halperts are left smirking at each other, Jim’s the one who dives in first. He looks like he can barely contain himself, ready to gossip as soon as a person leaves the vicinity. Vaguely in the background she registers the sound of Seth’s door, the muffled sounds of pool splashing a few minutes later. In the humidity of the house, fans blowing warm air from room to room, she feels an overwhelming urge to strip to a suit, slap sunscreen on the girls, and crash his place right then and there.

It takes less than a week. 

Three days later, Pam breaks Jim out of his hermitlike ways and drags him to the neighbor’s for an impromptu barbecue and pool party. Three girls hit it off immediately, chattering together and playing imaginary little games within the first fifteen minutes. The youngest Halpert watches on a blanket, surrounded by his toys, nose pale with sunscreen. It’s a perfect night, warm and gorgeous and with everyone in high spirits. Jim bonds easily with Seth, the both of them cracking the same ridiculous jokes and drinking the same warm, shitty beer as happily as though they’ve always been buddies. 

As they work in tandem on the grill, Seth clears his throat.

“So, you may have noticed my lack of a wife – or husband, I guess,” he jokes. “Just to address the elephant in the pool, I’m divorced. But! The ex-wife and I both love our children very much and we’re still a good parenting team. Just not good at being spouses.”

“Hey, it’s none of our business, man, but... glad to hear you’re still civil, even. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah, totally.” Pam takes in his home again, beautiful as the pool, as his daughters, and feels a little friendly warmth toward this new neighbor. “I think that’s really cool.”

“Well,” Seth sighs, “I do enjoy hearing how cool and impressive I am, so, in the end, it’s all worth it.”

More laughter as they monitor both the children and the meat on the grill, natural as ever. Smoke flavors the air and it puts everything under a nostalgic lens. Seth winks at Pam. The gesture is innocent, just another part of his personality, probably, but it feels private. Her lips curve into an easy, shy smile, turning to tend to the girls to hide her flush. Phillip babbles and claps, laughs at the girls splashing nearby, decked out in enough floatation devices to keep them afloat forever. 

“Uh, hey, Seth? This is weird, but do you have any plastic cups, or maybe some tupperware? Phil’s going through this thing where he loves cups and bowls but I forgot to bring a couple.”

Seth sets his utensils down, wiping his hands on his apron. Pam rises up to follow and gestures for Jim to watch over the kids, stepping in through Seth’s sliding glass door in the back and doing a slow spin in his kitchen; everything is gorgeous. The appliances, the cabinets, the pastel tiled countertops – she feels like she’s in a magazine, in some model kitchen, and Seth watches her for a moment with a sliver of a grin, like he’s letting her have her fun. It seems like it isn’t the first time somebody’s marveled at his kitchen.

“Oh my God,” she says, arms spread out. In an ornate bowl, fruit waits for mouths. There are kitschy, vintage coffee signs, glossy red paint and a chrome-edged dining table, matching vinyl seats. It looks like the perfect cross between an old diner and a kitchen from decades back. Pam strokes a little hutch that has novelty beer mugs displayed inside and Seth describes a few of the old stories behind them; one inherited from his father and his grandfather as a family in-joke, a gift from his 21st birthday. A souvenir. A tiny, barely usable ceramic mug that could fit over the end of her pinky, something that had made him laugh so much he had to buy it. 

“Enough about my stupid little collection – let’s get your boy something to throw around. Plastic stuff’s in there, on top.”

There’s a tiny bit of satisfaction in opening a stranger’s cupboards, peeking into their lives in a tiny way. Not much is revealed through his dinnerware, but she enjoys it nonetheless, rising up on her toes to wiggle her fingers fruitlessly at the oversized plastic cups. They practically glow on the shelf in neon shades, next to child-sized, patterned bowls, plates. She lowers down, lifts up again, lengthening the stretch of her arm until it tugs the muscles over her ribs, but the cups elude her. 

Behind her, Seth hovers over her. Without hesitation, he’s pressed close enough that the edge of the counter pushes into her hips, his body curled around hers as he plucks the cups from the cupboard. A heavy hand steadies itself on her waist. He grunts a little and there it is, a deft bump of the hips against her ass, and there’s an unmistakable pressure that freezes her to the spot. He pulls away as quickly as he’d sidled up, presenting the cups with a grin so genuine that maybe she’d dreamt up the quick grind against her. He just wants to be welcoming, to be accommodating. Pam smiles and laughs a little, ducking under her eyelashes when she can’t hold eye contact. The room thrums with her nerves, like every action in the room is somehow tied to them. She can practically feel him wading through to get to the door. 

Later that night, in bed, Pam listens to Jim snore and feels that pressure tight against her ass like a brand, replaying it over and over while she twists her fingers into the sheets. 

  
“_God_, it’s hot. Need a drink?”

Pam lounges in a lawn chair, the kind from when she was a kid, a saggy, strappy vinyl number that bows comfortably below her weight. Phillip coos and bats toys around on a blanket underneath an umbrella and the girls play in the grass, the sound of their laughter accented by a sprinkler. Seth reclines in a matching chair, sunglasses on and doing absolutely nothing to mask where his eyes are going. 

She wears a bikini, one she’d stuffed back in her underwear drawer without much thought. It hugs her nicely, fitting better than it ever had before, through the ups and downs of two pregnancies. She knows he’s looking – she isn’t a stranger to the male gaze, to roving eyes and attention. It feels warm and heavy as his hands might be. 

“Yeah, that sounds great. It’s not like I have to go anywhere but next door,” she laughs. She forces herself to fight gravity and rise up from her seat, peeling herself from the sticky vinyl like she’s melting into it. “It _is_ hot, wow. Might wanna spray this down after I leave, I am _sweaty_. Sorry.”

“You didn’t have to get up... I’m the one who offered!”

Pam flaps her hand at him and scoffs, straightening up, stretching her arms toward the cloudless sky until tiny pops zip up her spine. On her way into the house, there’s a shock to her system that forces a shrill, unflattering shriek from her lungs, wringing them absolutely empty as she lifts her arms up in defeat.

Seth points the garden hose at her, thumb covering half the opening to aid in the water pressure. He cracks up, glasses sliding down his face as he lowers the hose and raises his hands up. Pam gasps for air, swiping at the water on her skin like she can do much to stop the chill slicing into her bones. Her nipples are stiff enough to hurt, and the sensation of all those taut nerves and flesh makes her feel naked, exposed, somehow, and when she glares playfully at Seth, he’s already staring. He slides his sunglasses down his nose and waggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m _sorry_, was I supposed to spray the _seat?_” He stands up to turn the hose off, shrugging. “My bad. S’just so much more fun to spray _you!_”

“_I’ll bet_.”

Seth approaches her, throwing his arm around her shoulders and wiggling her into a half-hug. He guides her into the kitchen, hand a little too familiar on her waist, and rattles off a drink list. She politely declines only to be convinced of one, and maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s just hot out, and she deserves to have a drink once in a while. Why shouldn’t she? Just one. A Dirty Shirley, simple and sweet. 

He pulls ingredients and bottles from a separate cupboard and mixes them, chatting idly about a brief stint as a bartender before he had kids. 

“Absolute shit at customer services and remembering drinks, honestly. Mostly just good at tossing bottles. I’m a great juggler. Great with my hands all around, really.”

His eyes are warm down the curve of her hip, over her ass when they walk out. She ignores it, ignores him discussing the merits of his hands. He’s just flirting. There’s nothing wrong with a little flirt, it’s just some breaking of the ice. It doesn’t hurt that she finds him almost handsome, in a way, classically good looking. What her mother might call a man’s man.

Once imbibed, the alcohol does its work and relaxes her. She giggles at his insistence that she’s buzzed, that he makes heavy drinks. Pam’s no stranger to alcohol; she’s a big girl. She can handle herself just fine. There’s no sense of lack of control, no discomfort, no wooziness. Just pleasurable relaxation.

“_C’mere_.”

Pam stands next to Seth’s chair as she loses herself in watching the kids play, loses herself in some random train of thought as the sun beats pleasantly against her skin and she can practically feel the tan try to happen. Seth hooks an arm around her and yanks her back, chuckling as she falls clumsily into his lap, squeaking, protesting. He wraps a big arm around her waist and there’s no way to squirm out of it – he has a solid, if gentle, grip on her. 

“Seth! Hey, I don’t think –”

“_Hey_,” Seth interrupts, drink unspilled in his free hand. It hovers and bobs in the air, held up and away from Pam’s almost-struggle. “Don’t think! Relax. _Really_. I’m not gunna bite, you just... look like you could use a seat.”

“That’s very funny, but – Seth, _c’mon_. Jim... I don’t think he’d like this.”

“Nobody’s getting _naked_, nobody’s making out, I’m just having a little fun. How often do I get a pretty girl in my lap these days, right? Indulge an old man.”

“You aren’t even _old_,” she says, and the joke surprises her. It’s true – he’s barely older than them, a victim to early grays. Victim might not be the most accurate word. Pam quite enjoys it, the silver around his hairline blooming into a darker, incredibly flattering gray-black, a silver fox if there were any. She stills in his lap, tensed from shoulders to toes but trying to calm down. Before she can continue her thoughts, Seth squeezes her playfully.

“_There she is!_ Pam Halpert, comedienne extraordinaire. Beautiful, hilarious, and _soaked._”

She holds her breath. As she settles over his lap, there’s a growing bulge she pretends isn’t there, like his dick isn’t burying itself up in her suit. As he grows beneath her, so do his reactionary twitches. Each little shift makes him throb. She turns absolutely red, alcohol and shame and arousal and humiliation pounding inside her skull like a dull headache, pounding between her thighs as a very different ache. 

“_Seth_...”

“I gotta say, I _like_ hearing my name like that. Don’t pretend it doesn’t feel good – it _does_, doesn’t it?”

Pam stays quiet. She fidgets in his lap and fights the urge to roll her hips or release the sound barricaded behind her teeth, clenched together in her nerves. After a few minutes, Seth releases her, patting her on the hip. He chats with her as she rises, averting her gaze from his lap at all times, and she chats back. She can barely think of what they’re even talking about as she packs the kids’ things up, feeling herself smile and laugh and interact on autopilot. The pulse beneath her swimsuit ebbs, but doesn’t entirely fade. It stays with her all the way to the front door of her home, Philip on her hip and Cece holding her hand, up until Jim kisses her on the cheek and welcomes them home from a little pool party. There’s an irrational fear that he’ll see something in her eyes, something about her suit._ Something._

He has no clue, of course.

After the kids are in bed, Pam is the one to engage Jim, to reach down and stroke him through his underwear until he stirs and rolls over the top of her. He smells nice. He makes love to her, slowly, deeply, and in the back of her mind she pictures it in a cheap lawn chair.

  
Jim’s working late.

The girls and Phillip take a nap inside, the kids splayed out over couches and the floor, snuggled into a ruined blanket fort. Pam and Seth have a drink, poolside again. It feels like a perfect summer evening. The water glitters, still enough to make Pam feel a tinge of guilt for not utilizing it. It feels so much nicer to lie under the heat of the sun and the matching intensity of Seth’s gaze, the force of his focus so much more than Jim’s lately. Jim hasn’t look at her like this since before their marriage. Of course, she knows he loves her, wants her, enjoys her, but... does he ever show it? Does he ever stare at her like she’s a knockout, like she holds some kind of power over him?

Seth takes that place, making no effort to hide it. His sunglasses slide cartoonishly down his nose and he peers over them at her, lifting his beer. 

“Kids sleeping. Sun out. Beautiful woman by my side, a cold beer – there’s barely anything that could make this better.”

Pam smiles, languid, more drunk off his attention than her polite rum and coke. She thinks about sitting in his lap a few nights ago, about the thick, warm ridge that grew up against her ass, wiggled up against her cunt through the wet fabric. 

“Hey, well, you’re not too bad, yourself.” She pulls her legs up, wraps her arms around them. His eyes slide down her throat and shoulders and burn through the strings of her bikini, and she doesn’t have to look at him to know. “Barely anything better, huh? Tell me, neighbor, what would make this any better?”

“Oh... a gentleman wouldn’t say.”

She watches him, and he watches her, and above them, the sun watches them both, like the world is holding its breath in this moment. He chews thoughtfully on his lip, full, caught between his teeth as he waits. Pam opens her mouth to speak and nothing comes out at first. Just a breathy little laugh, appearing and then disintegrating just as quickly. The urge to reign herself in is just as fleeting. Her tongue comes back to life and she stokes the warmth spreading in her belly, down in the basin of her hips, filling her up like smoke.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it,” she insists.

He chuckles into his beer, amused enough that he shakes his head a little. Pam’s heart pounds and while the adrenaline isn’t unwelcome, it’s confusing. It’s impossible to trust her own body, to trust _herself_, and they both know very well that she shouldn’t trust him. She’s in trouble. Lips parted, she watches and waits while he takes a long sip. 

“Blowjob wouldn’t hurt.”

His shorts. He makes no effort to adjust or hide himself, tenting them like he’s a fucking teenager, so little control that he’s hard over the mere thought of getting a blowjob from Pam. Pam in her bikini that’s a little too racy, Pam with her blush and her soft, pale skin on display, her scent on the warm air. What was she _really_ asking for, anyway? What did she really think would happen?

“Good to know.”

“You asked.” Seth shrugs, shifting his hips. He reaches down and presses the edge of his hand against it, putting on a show. Putting himself on display. “If you know someone who’s _interested_...”

“Seth, I’m... _married_. We’re just friends.”

“I’m not looking for another wife, Pam. I’m looking to fuck your pretty mouth. I’ll bet you do it well, don’t you, honey?”

“The kids –”

“– _are napping._” Seth waits a beat for Pam to fluster herself into silence, eyes locked on her like a predator, like he knows he’s got the kill. He strokes himself idly through the material, watching, waiting, drinking in the baited silence while Pam practically squirms in his seat. “I bet you’re the kind of girl who’s good at listening. Am I right, sweetheart? You wanna show Daddy how good you are?”

Her mouth goes absolutely dry. In the back of her mind is an unspoken, half-formed truth, the thought that maybe a nudge to the back of her throat would solve that, solve the desperate dryness, bring her salivary glands to life. She can already feel the grit of the ground on her knees, can feel the scratch of his leg hair against her palms just imagining it. Her hands tingle. She waits there as if for a sign, like she needs to be told again, instructed firmly and surely to make her way over to him and show him how good she is. _Yeah,_ she can be really good, she _wants_ to be, underneath all the humiliation. The guilty thrill, roiling in her gut. _Guilt_. Hesitation.

Seth pulls down the band of his shorts and his cock springs out, thick and dripping. It’s flushed nearly as red as her face is. 

“Get on your hands and knees and crawl _nice and slow_. Crawl over here, show me that little pink tongue, and do what you know you want to do. _Now_.”

“I don’t know...”

“If you don’t come over here, I’ll come give it to you. I’ll hold that head of yours still so I can fuck your throat. Is that how you’d like it? You want it really rough? Or do you wanna be _good?_”

Pam slides off the chair. The vinyl sticks to her thighs, pulls away at her like she’s peeling skin, but in her hurry to listen, she barely notices. She crawls across the cement, savors each little scrape along the way like it’s proof that she’s not going to burst into flames in the face of her sin. Jim is nothing but an echo in her brain, lost beneath the roar of her blood, the pleasant haze of alcohol. By the time she reaches his thighs, she’s shaking. 

“Good girl. _Open up._”

He tastes of sweat, of skin and salt. He makes a noise in his throat as she eases him inside her mouth, giving him long, slow licks from balls to tip. He seems surprised by it, laughing at her attention to detail, and the embarrassment of being too eager pools between her thighs. She presses a hand subtly between them to take off the edge of the pressure. He’s not quite as long as Jim, for such a big man, but he’s a lot to take in. _Thick._ She stretches her jaws until it’s a little sore, learning how to let him in without scraping teeth. It makes her wet to even try. His hips roll gently below her and there’s a sense of power under her sweaty palms, splayed on his thighs. 

“_I like you like this_,” he whispers. He tangles his fingers into her hair, tied back, formed into the perfect holding place. A handle. Reins. He hums and thrusts up a little, testing her gag reflex. She does him proud by swallowing it back. He pets her wordlessly like she’s a good dog, a good little bitch, and the thought of being made to do this in the relative public of his yard makes her want to push her hand into her bottoms. She resists, bobbing her head and slurping at his cock until drool runs delicately down her chin in threads. It drips down over his balls and he moans, pushing her down by the hair until her bottom lip is brushing them, nose mashed into his pubic bone. “_God_, you’re so good at taking it. Does Jim do this to you? He fuck your face like I do?”

There’s barely space to muster a sound, all of her focus poured into fighting the urge to dry heave with his dick tickling her throat. He throbs there and her eyes water up, tears streaming over her cheeks. She pushes against his thighs but he clucks his tongue, holding her down until she relaxes. 

“I bet he doesn’t. I bet your little cunt’s so wet you fuck yourself silly tonight. Or maybe you’ll let ol’ Jim have it, _really_ have it. Maybe you’ll ride him til you’re red in the face, and you’ll be thinking of this, of me, of how I taste in your mouth. The same mouth you’re gunna kiss him with.”

He pumps his hips now and there’s a shining moment of freedom, of the ability to take a breath between each rough thrust back into that tight, trembling ring of flesh behind her tongue. She’s making these pathetic, whimpering mewls in her throat, high and warbling and nasal, mascara running down her cheeks. Who the hell wears mascara to the pool, anyway? It finds its way down to her chin to mix with the saliva there, salted now by both her tears and the viscous, clean fluid dripping from his cock. He tastes good. She enjoys having Jim in her mouth, but he doesn’t taste so nice. 

She imagines it, imagines coming home to ride his cock and finger herself, rub her clit in frenzied little circles until she’s bucking and moaning and sweating over him. Feeling his cock pulse but imagining that she’s poolside with Seth choking her like this. 

“This suits you. Hot girl next door, too shy to beg me for it. You need me to tell you what you need, huh? Need me to _show you_. To fuck you til you’re crying like that – _fuck. Fuck_, I love seeing you cry. You crying because you want my cum, baby? Baby girl needs me to cum straight down her throat, into her belly?”

She hums against his dick and he tenses up, so achingly hard she’s afraid of losing focus and biting. It’s getting so hard to keep control of her jaw, to not collapse over him and ask him to fuck her, to please fill her up exactly like she wishes he would, to destroy her down on the ground and take whatever he wants. 

Seth pulls his dick out of her mouth, watches the string of drool stretch from her bottom lip to his own swollen head. Pam’s lips are just as pink and swollen, parted, tongue stretched out while he strokes himself off above her face. 

“_Ask for it. Ask Daddy for his cum_.”

“_Please_.”

“Not good enough – _more._”

Pam whines, pitiful as ever. She can’t keep her eyes off him, the shape of him over her mouth, heavy, slippery, so close to climax she can practically taste it already. She begs through her body, tugging playfully downward against his grip in her hair. She licks her lips, pants each shuddery breath. He hums his approval and yanks her back, arches her throat so that she’s practically watching the sky. Fingers slip underneath the band of her bikini top and her tits are bouncing free of it, nipples stiff in the cooling air. She can barely see Seth’s eyes as they dart down to watch them, abandoning the top so that it sits above her breasts, hand free to squeeze, to knead, to _pinch._

Pam lights up. Pleas fall from her lips, quiet and frantic as a prayer, and Seth stoops low to rub the wet head of his cock against her tits, fucking his own fist until his breath begins to hitch. 

“_Oh, fuck_ – good girl, _good girl, stay still_ –”

Of course she does. She stays absolutely still when he digs his fingers in hard enough to make her think he’ll rip hairs free from her scalp. It burns almost as badly as the tension between her thighs. If she rubs herself the right way, if she had anything to grind on, just the barest hint of stimulation, she could cum. She could cum right here with him gasping over her naked chest, her lips still sore and spread open like he might still let her swallow it.

He releases her hair in time for her to look down and watch him cum, to watch it spurt over her chest and drip down over her nipples. It’s warm, and there’s so much of it, like he hasn’t been able to have this kind of relief in a long time. She touches it, swipes a drop on her finger, and Seth encourages her to lick it off.

As soon as he’s finished, they catch their breath and Pam comes alive, yanking a towel off his chair and scrambling to her feet, wincing at the sharp pain in her knees as she jerks up. She fixes her top and wipes herself clean, turning around so that he can fix himself up. Like watching him now will make any difference. 

Redressed and basking in the awkward silence, Seth looms over her. He grabs her chin and tips it up, forcing her eye contact, and she looks dutifully up at him. 

“What do you say?”

Pam almost recoils.

_Almost_.

“...thank you.”

Seth’s weight behind her takes her back to a couple weeks before, to his kitchen. The plastic cups. Through the glass door, she can see the kids hanging out. None of them so much as cast a glance their way. In the pool, underneath the water, his fingers are already slipping inside the gusset of her suit, thick, insistent. She squirms and it only makes him moan, a deep, rumbling sound in his chest, vibrating against her back until goosebumps sprout up over her arms. 

“_Seth_...”

“You’re wet. Even underwater, I can feel how wet you are for me. You don’t have to pretend you don’t want it, Pam.” He pulls the gusset aside and his cock slides between her thighs, up against that wet flesh. Prodding. Teasing. He splays his fingers against her belly as if he means to hold her close, to prevent her from swimming off – as if she has anywhere to go but down against his heavy cock. He hums into her hair and smells it, sighs into it. “I’m not looking for a whirlwind affair. I’m just looking for a good time, aren’t you? Is that why you get so wet after I touch you, Pam?”

“_Oh my God_...”

The first thrust inside is slow, deliciously sharp as he stretches her open. He’s thick, rocking his hips little by little to work it all in. He feels so different than anyone she’s been with before; there’s a sadistic edge to his slowness, dragging each stroke like he aims to slide over each and every nerve in the tight confines of her cunt. It fills her with words, with pleas, the need to beg him to go faster, but she settles for grinding her hips back and whimpering into her hand. 

“Like that, pretty little neighbor?” The roll of his hips, the feeling of his belly against her back, his chest, big arms around her like a cage. He fondles her lower belly, reaches down to play with her ass. “Knew you would. Knew you weren’t getting this at home. Let me take care of you – oh, _fuck,_ keep wigglin’ like that and I’m gunna cum.”

“_Don’t_. Not - not inside...” 

For the first time in their short friendship, Pam sounds clipped. There’s a static undercurrent of fear, but mostly, a sternness that one might use on a misbehaving child. It’s a flavor of Pam he’s had yet to taste; he likes the way it makes her pussy clench up around him, tense, her frame taut enough to pluck like a string. Each jerk of his hips has a sharpness, now. She bites her lip and swallows a moan as he makes it his mission to bottom out with each thrust.

“Nothing to worry about there, sweetheart. Daddy’s all fixed up. I can fill you up full as I please, without a second thought. Isn’t that so _nice, hmm?_”

The sound coming from her throat is less than human, some helpless mewl that can’t really be her. Water rushes around her waist, splashes between their bodies, and she feels so warm, so weightless. His skin rubs against hers and she likes it, likes the wet, scratchy hair, leaning back into it despite herself. He laughs and it’s more felt than heard, sending a sharp thrill straight down between her thighs. 

“Gunna cum already? I can feel it. You act so quiet, you act like you don’t want me to fuck you like this, and then you clench all over my dick like you’ve never had it so good. _But I’m here now, baby girl_. And we don’t have much time, so, by all means... if you’re really that desperate to let go,_ do it._ Cum for me.”

She’s nothing if not a good listener.

Just on the cusp, the sliding glass door bangs in its frame, startling her back to the brink. Seth freezes in place, buried balls-deep inside that hot, tight, twitching place, throbbing in time with each other. Cece runs out with his daughter, screeching laughter. Pam quells her internal panic, summoning every bit of focus she has left to appear casual. 

“Hey, sweetie! Uh, is everything okay?”

The girls start chattering both at once, oblivious to what’s happening in the water. Seth drapes his arms around her like he’s giving her a hug, innocent, friendly. They ask for snacks, for more toys. Pam slows them down, shifting herself in the pool and immediately regretting it as Seth manages to somehow push a little further, hitting a spot that sends a bolt of lightning straight up through her guts, through her lungs so that she has to gasp. 

The girls stop talking immediately, watching Pam with some level of concern, and she reclaims her composure and nods. 

“Yeah, yeah – can you go... wait in the kitchen for a minute? Yeah? Just... go, uh... play toys for a minute. I’ll be there in a minute, okay? Promise.”

They turn on their heels at the promise of treats and shriek all the way back into the kitchen, the hardwood already covered in dolls and cars and dinosaurs, in princess costume gear and storybooks. 

"_That was scary, huh?_" 

Before the door hushes over the frame again, Seth’s rocking his hips, working back into the rough slam into her soft body, ass bouncing against him underwater. He grabs a handful, squeezes and rubs and can’t help himself – he reaches both hands down, buries his fingers into her flesh until she feels like she might bruise. He pulls her like that, ramming up into her cunt with hands full of ass. His cock is so hard by this point that the friction of it inside of her, so _full_, so achingly _deep_, is enough. She cums quickly and violently, ducking her head down with her hand over her mouth.

“Knew you liked it hard. _Fuck_, you got a nice ass – almost a nice as this wet little pussy. Mommy needs some action, huh? You get _tight_. You’re gunna milk me dry, baby. But not before you ask really nice.”

“_Please_,” she whispers. Her voice gets lost under the sounds of the water sloshing about them, under his heavy breaths. She repeats it over and over, grinding back helplessly against him as her face burns. “_Please, please, please_...”

“That’s _good. Fuck_. I _knew_ you fuckin’ _wanted it_.”

When he cums, his cock gets _bigger,_ it _hurts_, it pumps cum as deep as he can shoot it until she’s full. He growls when he does it, jerking with each shot. It feels like being overtaken by an animal. He slides out of her and they float apart, Pam rushing to get out of the pool and wrap a towel around her hips. Underneath, between her shaking thighs, cum is already leaking into her suit. It sit against her body as she tends to the kids, voice higher than usual. Seth watches with a smirk, adjusting his shorts in full view of her once he’s inside. 

On the way out, Pam musters the courage to meet his eye. There’s still a flame back there, some flickering mischief that promises more of the same. 

She thinks of the weather tomorrow – bound to be hot.

Maybe hot enough for another pool day.


End file.
